The Day Darkness Blinded the World
by destructoxgirl
Summary: Tragedy occurs in Bosco’s life, leaving him frail and alone but when someone from Bosco’s past comes to help him with his depression… she only brings more pain. Together, will they be able to salvage all they hold dear? Or will they both be victims
1. Blast from the Past

**The Day Darkness Blinded the World**  
  
**Author:** Aryanna DiFranco  
  
**Disclaimer:** Sadly, none of these characters are my property... although I can think of a few that I wish were! ;)  
  
**Rating:** PG: 13  
  
**Spoiler Warning:** Well... if you haven't seen season one to the current season, then don't read it.  
  
**Summary:** Tragedy occurs in Bosco's life, leaving him frail and alone but when someone from Bosco's past comes to help him with his depression... she only brings more pain. Together, will they be able to salvage all they hold dear? Or will they both be victims of one man's miss-led hatred.  
  
**Author's Note**: Okay, I'm aware this will probably suck. Please, Please, Please humor me!  
  
**[Flashback]  
**  
_**Sully**: You know that D.O.A. we had earlier?  
  
**Bosco**: What about it?  
  
**Davis:** We got an ID and... uh...  
  
**Bosco:** And?  
  
**Sully:** ... It's your brother.  
  
**Bosco:** (confused) what he's connected somehow?  
  
**Davis:** No Bos, it's him.  
  
**Sully:** It's Michael.  
  
**Bosco:** Give me that! (Snatches ID paper from Sully's hands)! This is Wrong! This ... it's wrong! You guys are wrong... I'll call him!  
  
**Swersky:** Bosco...  
  
**Sully:** Bosco, it's Michael.  
  
**Bosco:** I just talked to him yesterday.  
  
**Sully:** I'm sorry man.  
  
**Bosco:** C'mon... no way. You're wrong... You're Wrong!!_  
  
**[End Flashback]**

**_4:36 A.M. - Brooklyn._**  
I pressed the pedal to the floor and felt a surge of power as the car lurched forward, zooming past all the cars on the highway. I was needed in New York... he had lost so much already. Every since we were little, he was always getting himself into trouble and I, being the oldest of all his siblings, step or otherwise... would have to come and bail him out. I've been doing it for so long that it's like a second nature. When I heard his voice on the line, when I heard the sorrow in his voice, it didn't matter it was 4 o'clock in the morning... all that mattered was that Mo' was my brother and he needed me.  
  
Does that explain why I was on the highway, heading for the Brooklyn bridge? I was coming home. I'd been driving for so long my right leg was entirely numb and my head was throbbing from the pain and stress. I didn't understand how it could be that... oh god. How could little Mikey be dead? I haven't seen him for years and I didn't understand who would victimize him like this. I knew he wasn't right lately but torturing and burning him, that's going too far. I shouldn't be surprised... I've been a cop for nearly eight years... I've seen situations like this every day but I couldn't stomach it when it happened so close to me, close to my family. Oh how Rose must be suffering... that poor woman. There is no pain in the world like the pain of a mother dealing with the loss of a child. No pain at all that could measure up to anywhere near that surreal amount.  
  
I stopped at the tollbooth on the bridge and flashed my badge at the pimply old man leering at me through the bulletproof glass. _Srgt. Gabrielle Lynn Fuentes Boscorelli, 66th division, Philadelphia PD._ He nodded at me and pressed the button to raise the orange and white caution stick. Once again I put my foot to the floor and prayed to god Bosco wouldn't do anything stupid before I got there.  
  
" Hang on Maurice! " I whispered. " Your sisters coming. "

**_5:43 A.M. - St.Babtista's Cemetary_**  
The sun had just risen above the horizon and cast a bright red glow on the entire city. Red, the color was appropriate with the emotions that I would imagine this day would hold. For Maurice and his mother, this day could hold little but pain and suffering but for me? The thing on my mind was revenge and retribution... I'd been protecting my family for so long, it was the entire reason I had become a cop. But I was so focused on becoming my own person; I left them when they needed me most... when I was most vulnerable, because the pain of being in the one place where I had lost a person so dear to me was unbearable. I turned the key in the ignition and cut the engine, watching my headlights die and hearing all sound stop. The city or this section of it, was eerily quite for this time of the morning. I had been a cop in New York for a short time but even I knew that crime never sleeps, especially in the mother of all cities. I thought about it for a moment before casting a hand through my unkempt dark brown locks and exiting the car. I listened intently to the way my black leather boots tapped among the pavement as I made my way towards my destination. The wrought Iron gates were open and the guard chair next to them was empty. I shook my head at the lack of security but ventured on through the gates, watching, as the sunlight seemed to make the grave markers glow. I couldn't deal with Michael's death, couldn't be in this city until I came to visit him, until I paid my respects to Bobby. I walked down the rows of markers, casting my eyes over each engraved name until finally, my deep brown eyes came to rest on his name.  
  
" Roberto Caffey. " I murmured to nobody in particular, loving the way his name rolled off my tongue and felt like honey on my lips. I bit down on the insides of my cheeks to stop the tears that I knew I was doomed to cry... I couldn't cry now, not when everything was so dependent on me. I allowed my fingertips to brush the cold stone and brush across Bobby's name and I felt a twinge of pain gnaw at my heart. One salty tear rolled down my skin and dripped onto the grave stone and I felt a cold shiver rush down my spine but its wasn't the breeze of danger or of fear, it was a comforting breeze that felt as if he was holding me close, stroking my hair and whispering to me that I was strong, that I would be Okay and that one day we would be together again. I closed my eyes and inhaled one shaking breath to steady myself as I placed the white rose from my left hand onto Bobby's grave. I held it there for a moment and then turned on my heel and made my way back through the rows and out the front gates.

**_7:28 A.M. - The Residance of Angela-Rose Boscorelli_**  
For the second time that night, or day... I didn't really know; they all had bled together! For the second time I killed the engine and opened the car door, walked up the front steps and onto the porch. I poised my hand above the wood grain door and braced myself to knock. Suddenly, the porch light snapped on and the door swung open to reveal a sobbing Rose Boscorelli, with Maurice in tow. She was clutching her chest as if in extreme cardiac distress and was shaking with silent waves of tears. I shook my head and outstretched my arms towards Rose, hoping she would feel some soft amount of comfort. The look on her face, the smudged makeup and curling of her lips told me that her heart was breaking. I opened my eyes, still clutching Rose in my arms and looked to Maurice, who was eying his mother wearily as if she were in a great amount of danger. I shook my head at his bad timing but I knew he was right, that if somebody had wanted to hurt Bosco... the best place to start would be with Bosco's family. The most accessible being Mikey because he was in-between the precinct-holding cell and Rikers. I released Rose and she took a step back as if to survey me over, like it was a Birthday party and we were here to celebrate somebody's ability to grow older instead of the Death of Michael.   
  
" You look good Gabby. " She said half-heartedly, attempting to bring a smile to her features. I didn't have the heart to tell her how miserably she was failing so I smiled softly and whispered an appreciative reply before turning to Bosco to survey him with the same appraising stare that his mother had given me a moment before. He looked away as I extended my arms and sniffled. I hugged him for a moment, just like I had when we were little, when his dad used to crawl into his bedroom... make promises and stir hopes in this fragile little boy's heart, and then head straight for his mother's throat. I had crept into his room and held him as he cried his little heart out, held him until all the screaming stopped and until he could cry no more and when his shaking sobs turned into the steady sleeping patterns of a little child. Now, he didn't welcome my hug but while he was in so much pain, he wasn't macho enough to refuse it.   
  
" How are you I? " I whispered and he just shook his head and pulled away. I knew it was a stupid question as soon as it escaped my lips but I couldn't change what I had said. I watched as Bosco despondently turned and walked into the kitchen. I put my hands on Rose's shoulders and persuaded her into the the living room with the promise of some rest and a nice cup of chamomile tea. She needed sleep for the ordeal she would have to grow through in the next couple of weeks... I knew that above all else. As she snuggled beneath the covers, hoping to dream dreams of white clouds instead of charred, headless torso's... I crept into the kitchen and began to make the tea I had promised. Bosco sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands, eyes closed and breathing hard. I turned to look at him, ignoring the kettle as it began to steam. He was such a sad semblance of his former self... it was so painful for me to watch. I shook my head and set about pouring the tea into the chipped china cup and carried it out to Rose, who was now sleeping on the couch. When I walked into the kitchen, Bosco was gone. I wasn't surprised, it was early in the morning and there was so much that needed to be done. And I refused to sleep until it was all done... somebody had to hold this family together and in my heart and in my mind, I knew that person would always be me.

**A/N: I promise to update as soon as possible.**


	2. BOOM

[Davis' POV]  
  
I walked towards the funereal home with my head bowed in submission. A feeling of familiarity washed over me as I opened the doors and walked through them. This was the same funereal parlor where my dad had his service all those years ago. It was hard for me to realize exactly how long it had been since that horrible day when Sully had come to my door and told my mother that my father was gone, forever. The first thing I saw when I walked into the parlor… or should I say, the first thing I heard, was yelling. I looked up to see a woman, obviously a relative of Bosco's, yelling at the clerk at the front desk. I surveyed her with an appraising stare, noting how little she actually looked like Bosco. The only way I could actually tell they were related is because the way she spoke was exactly the way Bosco did… the same accent and all. She was tall and lean, with a Hispanic complexion, dark brown eyes and long straight dark brown hair. She wore a long black off the shoulder dress and a black leather jacket that stopped just below the small of her back. Her long legs were accentuated with a pair of black strappy stiletto heels. Her neck was decorated with a diamond encrusted cross necklace and a matching pair of earrings hung gracefully from each ear. She was beautiful and I would have thought she was most graceful and elegant if it wasn't for the fact that she was screaming at the young man who was attending the front desk. This guy looked scared off his ass. I stood back and chucked slightly, waiting to see how the situation would involve.  
  
" LISTEN… " She took a deep breath. " I'm not here to cause problems… I truly am not, but if you decide to fuck with my brother's funereal… I will rip you limb from limb. Now… We scheduled the funereal parlor for today… I do not care if you were supposed to be closed for renovations or what… you call the construction company and tell them to turn the hell around because Srgt. Boscorelli from the Chicago Police Department is attending the funereal of her brother today okay? "  
  
The young man gulped in a breath noticeably, nodded his head and shakily picked up the phone and began to dial. Satisfied, the young woman turned around and ran a weary hand through her hair. I took this as my chance to step forward towards her. As I approached, she eyed me suspiciously with such scrutiny that it made me shiver. I got the instinctive feeling that she was the type of woman that it was not wise to cross. I extended my hand slowly and she accepted.  
  
" Um… Hi. My name is T-Ty Davis Jr. I'm a police officer from the 55th precinct…" I said and I noticed that the pressure from her grip lessened extremely as she realized who I probably was.  
  
" Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm Gabrielle… I'm Mo's stepsister. " She said and I realized how much more pleasant her voice was when she wasn't yelling. There was a distinct New York accent present but it was mixed in with what sounded like a twinge of Irish and Spanish accents. I was intrigued by the way she spoke and confused by who Mo was. When I had finally come to realize that Mo was short for Maurice, that being Bosco's real name, she had already finished her next sentence. I played back her words in my head and then smiled sheepishly and replied, " Yes… I do work with Bosco. "  
  
" Did you say your name was Ty Davis? " She asked with a look of confusion clear across her features. I nodded at her and she furrowed her brow as if something was amiss.  
  
" What is it? " I asked her softly.  
  
" Well… I used to be a cop here and I worked at the 55 too… I knew a Police Officer named Ty Davis but he was much older than you. Is there any relation? "  
  
I nodded sadly.   
  
" Yes, he was my father. "   
  
" Whatever happened to him? "  
  
I knew this was the question to come next. I hung my head for a moment and heard her intake a breath, as if expecting what was to come next.  
  
" When? " She asked softly.  
  
" Eight years ago when I was 14. " I replied honestly. " He was on foot patrol with his partner and somebody shot him in the head. They perp was never apprehended. "  
  
" And his partner? Sully… big, round, kind of grumpy, probably be getting on now. "  
  
" Yeah that's him. " I said with a grin. " I'm his partner now. "  
  
Gabrielle smiled and chuckled, shaking her with the ironic nature of the situation. From the left of the room we were standing in, the front doors open and in walked Sasha and Sully. "Speak of the devil. " I said and smiled at them for a moment as they approached me, Sasha putting her small hand on my arm. Sully stood to my right and looked at Bosco's stepsister as if she was familiar. Before he could speak however, she turned to me and grinned, inclining her head in Sully's direction.  
  
" Would that be him? " She asked and I nodded. She extended her hand for him to shake and as she did, her sweater sleeve slid up her arm. I took in a breath as I stared hopelessly at the faded, twisting scars that disfigured her wrists. There were so many of them that they crossed paths and kept on twisting, all the way up her arm until the hem of her sleeve hid them from view. I wonder just how far up her body they went and what had been the cause. I tried to tell myself they weren't from what I thought they were but I'd seen them before too many times. They were the marks of attempted suicide… of a woman in so much pain that the only release is physical pain. I wondered in my mine what event had triggered this destructive behavior and made a mental note to as Bosco about this when it was a more appropriate time.  
  
I shook my head, shaking the thoughts from lodging to far in my mind and only then did I realize that all the inhabitants of the room were staring at me.  
  
" Are you coming Davis? " Sasha asked me and I registered that it must be time to go in now. The service must be starting. I inhaled shakily and nodded, offering my arm to Sasha as we walked through the door.   
  
[Bosco's POV]  
  
The service had been beautiful, no thanks to me. Ma cried the entire time, her cries the most prominent over all other sound in the room. The mourners all lined up one by one and placed roses on Mikey's coffin, the last person to do so being me, Mikey's older brother. The person that had killed him; the person that had caused the chain reaction that had taken his life. I wondered to myself if he blamed me for cutting his life so short. Hell, I knew I blamed myself. I hated myself right now… I wanted to trade places; I wanted to be the one to die. I know people always say this… it gets said so much that I'm surprised people actually believe it but for me, no other statement in the world rung so true. I would take my life if it would bring Mikey back. Well… that is after I get revenge. And I will get it… Mann will pay for taking my brother away from me… away from my family. I was Maurice Boscorelli… since when did I ever let anybody push me around like that. I didn't allow people to take things that were mine and I ain't about to make an exception.  
  
I scanned the room, coming to rest on my stepsister Gabrielle… sitting on the little love seat at the back of the room. She looked dead… I knew she hadn't slept in a week, knew that she had been supporting us all this time. She's been so strong; she's always been the strong one. I used to pretend that it was I… that I was the one that was the martyr of the family… the one who sacrificed so much but I've been lying to myself all along. Hell I tried to be strong but everyday I felt like I was falling apart. Running a race that I was never going to finish. Trying to find my way out of her shadow… I guess that's kind of what Mikey felt like. He felt like he had this two, amazing do-gooder siblings and he was a low down skell who would never amount to anything. He was sick with something he had little or no control over except that first mistaken decision and I didn't help him. I had no idea what it was like to be in the shadow of two people. I caught Gabrielle's eye just as she got up to leave the room. As sudden as Mikey's death, there was a huge crash and a car drove straight through the building, flying into Gabrielle. I screamed her name as an explosion echoed out throughout the room. That's the last thing I saw before falling out of consciousness. 


	3. Religon

Gabrielle's POV

" We pray god will give guidance to our fallen brethren. Praise lord, will you wrap your wisened hands towards, Micheal? Please lord, usher him into paradise. "

It is all bullshit, all of it. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, no ever-looming judgement day. Your life slips away and they scramble to find a place for you among the sea of dead, six feet underground. They get rid of you as fucking fast as they can; so consumed with their need to live that they forget that not long ago you did too. Life isn't long enough to waste time with religon and dreams. Life is choices and hardship and mistakes. Religion is just a pimp and in a way, we are the metaphorical bitches, just a leash wrapped around us that anyone can yank when we need to tow the line. Guilt becomes us, consumes.

My family was your stereotypical catholic hispanic family. My dad left us right after I was born. Us, in this case, was my mom and five fucking kids. It was me and my brother's Antonio and Pauly and my older sister Gina. Mama was heartbroken, to say the least and she clung to religon as if it were the only thing that could save her from such cruel heart break. So, naturally all of us children had it shoved down our throats as well. And then, ten years later, when Mama met a recently divorced Italian man by the name of Boscorelli, she clung to him for dear life and our family grew. We moved into a house on the outskirts of Brooklyn with my new step-father and his two kids. Both little italian boys, with bad attitudes and a taste for mischeif. Maurice and Micheal Boscorelli. Maurice was nine and Micheal was only six.

The year I met my step-brother, Bosco, was the same year I met Roberto Caffey. They were our neighbors and Pauly and Bobby hit it off immediatley. I was a year younger than both Pauly and Bobby respectivley and often made attempts to tag along with them when they would venture outside. I, like many young girls do, hadtaken a liking to my older brother's best friend. And when Bobby took a liking to my sister, Gina, I was considerably despondant. But we grew up.Gina and Bobby were nothing but a teenage fling. Gina married and had three kids,Bobby trained to become a paramedic, and, well.. we all know what I've become.Bobby was avidly religous and we all know how his story ends.

But then, there are those un-lucky few who learn this knowledge of mine and either become my co-workers or my responsibility, my priority. Well, fuck. It's true, isn't it? Not many criminals are consumed with guilt, praying to god while they blow their wife's brains out or beat their children with electrical cords. Do you think that the jag-off I arrested in my first year as a cop who had been raping his girlfriends four kids while she, locked in a cage, watched in horror was praying for forgiveness? No. He knew the truth and he gave into his sick little needs without a second fucking thought.

Or like the asshole who decided to park his car in a funereal home. I turn to escape outside for a smoke and have a thousand pounds of metal and glass ram into me, throwing me sky high as the heat of the explosion rages beneath me. I come down and I come down hard, as the world fades away. An all consuming inky blackness fades my vision and I think,

" Fuck god, where were you on that one? "


End file.
